


The Bet

by skywalkersamidala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkersamidala/pseuds/skywalkersamidala
Summary: Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a frankenfic in that I wrote half of it in like July and the other half a couple weeks ago, so if it seems like there's any weird disconnects in writing quality, that would be why lmao also I had a tricky time translating Obi-Wan into a high schooler and I feel like he kind of still sounds like a tired middle aged dad even though he's only 16/17, so let's just assume that putting up with Anakin makes him that way no matter what age they are. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :)

Unfortunately for him (but fortunately for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, for whom it was an endless source of entertainment), Anakin Skywalker had always been terrible at flirting. His latest misguided attempt to get Padmé to notice him? Blurting out in the middle of history class that maybe the government would work better if there was one all-powerful person making everyone agree on things. Sure, she may have angrily lectured him about the merits of democracy and evils of dictatorship for five straight minutes while the rest of the class (and the teacher) looked on in amusement, but at least she’d paid attention to him.

“I _cannot_ believe you said that,” said Ahsoka on the way to the cafeteria, having been filled in on the incident by the other two, who were juniors whereas she was a sophomore and therefore not in any classes with either of them. “What is _wrong_ with you, Skyguy?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin replied miserably. “It’s like my mouth just opened by itself and started spitting out anything that might grab her attention.”

“Well, it definitely worked,” Obi-Wan said, chortling. “The look on her face! And the look on _your_ face when she started letting you have it. Absolutely priceless.”

“I’m glad you think it’s funny that the love of my life now thinks I’m some kind of psycho fascist sympathizer,” said Anakin, frowning, as Ahsoka joined in Obi-Wan’s snickers.

“It’s your own fault,” Ahsoka pointed out. “Besides, she’s not the _love of your life,_ she’s just someone you’ve been hopelessly, unrequitedly in love with since fourth grade. Big difference.”

“Hmph.” Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan. “But it wasn’t _that_ bad, right? I mean, you and Satine argue in history all the time and it’s always fine afterwards.”

“Yeah, because I’m her boyfriend, not the desperate kid who’s been stalking her for seven years.”

“I haven’t been _stalking_ Padmé,” Anakin grumbled.

“I beg to differ.”

Before Anakin could open his mouth to defend himself, they turned the corner and nearly bumped into none other than Padmé Naberrie herself, accompanied by Satine and their other friend, Sabé. Greetings were exchanged all around—or rather, greetings were exchanged between Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Satine, and Sabé while Padmé politely said hello to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before turning a disapproving look on Anakin, who wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

“Sit with us at lunch?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

“Sorry, can’t,” Satine said with a sigh. “We have to work on our speeches for the class office elections.” All three of them were heavily involved in student government: Padmé had been voted class president every single year for as long as anyone could remember, Sabé had been vice president the previous year, and Satine was the student council president.

“Oh, right. Well, good luck! If your speech is good enough, I might vote for you,” Obi-Wan teased.

Satine rolled her eyes. “You’d better. See you later.” They exchanged a quick kiss, making Anakin and Ahsoka gag rather childishly, which earned them an amused look from Sabé and a disdainful one from Padmé.

“That sort of immaturity’s not exactly the best way to go about getting Padmé to like you,” Obi-Wan scolded Anakin once the other three were out of earshot.

“I can’t help it. You two are _gross._ ”

“Oh, grow up.”

Anakin claimed a table, pulled out a bagged lunch, and started munching on his sandwich as he waited for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to return from buying their customary salad and three slices of pizza respectively. His gaze slid towards the other side of the cafeteria, where Padmé, Satine, and Sabé were bent over notebooks, scribbling madly and occasionally looking up to confer with each other. Padmé took a bite out of an apple, then furrowed her brow and tapped her lips with the end of her pen, chewing thoughtfully and reaching to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Anakin was pretty sure he internally swooned a little. She looked so cute when she was concentrating—

“Hey, Romeo, snap out of it.”

“Huh?” Blinking, Anakin realized that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had plopped down in front of him, effectively blocking his view of Padmé.

“Anakin, this is really getting ridiculous,” Obi-Wan said sternly. “Can’t you just tell her you like her and put us all out of our misery?”

They had had this conversation approximately three thousand times over the years, and Obi-Wan knew perfectly well what Anakin’s response would be. “No way! Are you crazy?” asked Anakin in horror. “She hates me! She’ll get really mad, or else she’ll just laugh at me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, she just thinks you’re annoying. Which, to be fair, you are,” Ahsoka added through a mouthful of pizza.

Anakin snorted. “Gee, thanks, Snips.”

“Besides, I doubt she’d get mad or laugh at you,” said Obi-Wan. “Padmé’s a very nice person, which is what made you like her so much in the first place. Worst case scenario is her letting you down gently.”

“Yeah, and that’s also the best case scenario, since there is literally no chance that she likes me back.”

Ahsoka’s face suddenly lit up. “I have an idea. Why don’t you ask her to prom in the spring? That way it’s kind of letting her know you’re interested without having to explicitly say that you are, so if she looks like she’s weirded out you could just backtrack and say you were asking as a friend.”

“That would work, except that we’re not friends,” Anakin pointed out. “I was planning to maybe ask her to senior prom next year, because at least that way if— _when_ she rejects me in an extremely humiliating way, I can escape to college right afterwards and never have to look her in the eye again.”

“But what if she says yes and you have a great time and she realizes she likes you except then it’s too late because you’re both going off to different colleges?” said Obi-Wan. “Ahsoka’s right, you should do it this year.”

Anakin looked unconvinced, so Ahsoka said, “Skyguy, I bet you ten dollars that you can’t ask Padmé to junior prom.”

Anakin’s eyes narrowed. “Ten dollars, you say? That’s a decent amount of money.” He considered it. “I just have to ask her? She doesn’t have to say yes?”

Ahsoka started to nod, but Obi-Wan interrupted her. “No, let’s raise the stakes. Ahsoka and I bet you ten dollars _each_ that you can’t ask Padmé to prom _and_ get her to say yes and go with you.”

“Okay, well, that’s just unreasonable,” Anakin replied. “She’ll never say yes. Not in a million years.”

But Ahsoka seemed to have changed her mind and sided with Obi-Wan. “That’s twenty dollars if you do it, Skyguy,” she said. “ _Twenty dollars._ And I’ll still give you ten if you ask and she says no.”

Anakin started to waver. “I don’t know…”

“It’s only September,” Obi-Wan said. “Junior prom’s right before April vacation, and people usually start asking each other in, what, March or February? So you have five or six months to get her to like you enough to be willing to go to prom with you.”

“If I haven’t gotten her to like me in seven years, what makes you think I could do it in six months?”

“She _used_ to like you, when you first moved here,” Ahsoka countered. “You told me you guys were friends for a couple years.”

“That’s right. I was his first friend back in fourth grade, but once Padmé started talking to him, he latched onto her and basically ignored me for the rest of the year, and most of fifth grade, too,” said Obi-Wan.

“I didn’t ignore you!” Anakin objected. “Anyway, that was years ago. We grew apart in middle school, and now she just thinks I’m an idiot.”

“Well, now’s the perfect time to change that,” Obi-Wan declared. “Remember, Anakin, your best friend is dating her best friend. I’m sure Satine and I could pull a few strings.”

“No! You can’t tell Satine, she’ll tell Padmé!”

Obi-Wan sighed. “I’m pretty sure that every single person in this school other than Padmé herself already knows about your huge, embarrassing, seven-year crush, but fine, I won’t tell Satine. Now are you going to take the bet or not?”

Anakin thought about it.

“Twenty dollars.”

Anakin thought about it.

“Twenty dollars, Skyguy.”

“Fine,” he said at last, holding out his hand. The other two took turns shaking it, looking delighted. “It’s a deal.”

* * *

Every year, the juniors at their school had to do a semester-long research project for history class, and Padmé, unlike the rest of her classmates, had been looking forward to it for ages. History was her favorite subject, and she always loved an excuse to learn about a certain period or event in a much more in-depth way than she’d be able to in class.

But she hadn’t counted on arriving to class the day the assignment was handed out and hearing that, in an attempt to help relieve stress and lighten the workload, the history department had decided to change it from an individual project to a partner project.

Padmé’s immediate reaction was to suppress a groan. Whenever she had to work with a partner, they either slowed her down or sat back and watched as she did all the work herself, and she didn’t even know which scenario was worse. But then the teacher said they could pick their partners, and Padmé quickly turned to Satine, knowing that the other girl was just as motivated and hard-working as she was. To Padmé’s dismay, she saw that Satine was standing up to go find Obi-Wan and ask to be partners with him.

 _Traitor,_ thought Padmé sourly. Sabé wasn’t in their class, nor was anyone else whom Padmé was particularly close with, so she was forced to hover awkwardly on the sidelines as the rest of the class made a mad dash for their preferred partner. When it was starting to really look like no one was about to approach her anytime soon, Padmé reluctantly slunk up to the teacher and mumbled that she didn’t have a partner, praying that there was an odd number of students in the class so that she could join Satine and Obi-Wan’s group.

No such luck. “Ah, perfect,” said the teacher. “Anakin was just looking for a partner, too.”

Dread pooling in her stomach, Padmé glanced over and saw that Anakin Skywalker was indeed standing a few feet away. He reddened a little as their eyes met, but Padmé was too horrified to notice. Of all the other people in the class who could’ve been partnerless, _why_ did it have to be him? She had to admit that he was actually quite good at subjects like math and science—he claimed to have built a robot at the age of nine, though she wasn’t sure she believed that since whenever someone asked to see it, he’d give the convenient explanation that he’d had to leave it behind when he moved to their town—but it was a well-known fact that Obi-Wan’s notes were the only thing that kept him from flunking out of history every year. Not to mention that he was irresponsible and annoying as all hell, and Padmé didn’t even want to _think_ about what his time-management and organizational skills were like.

All things considered, this might well be the worst possible way the situation could have worked out.

Anakin looked like he was about to say something, but just then the teacher called everyone to attention, and Padmé strode back to her seat, fuming. “I can’t believe you abandoned me!” she hissed to Satine. “Some friend you are!”

Satine was unfazed. “I’m sorry for abandoning you, but I’m sure whoever you ended up with can’t be that bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Padmé jerked her head over towards where Anakin was doing his best to distract an exasperated Obi-Wan from paying attention to the lesson. “Anakin Skywalker. That’s who I ended up with. He’s _the worst._ ”

“Oh, no he’s not,” said Satine, waving a hand dismissively. “Sure, he’s not great at history, but other than that he’s actually really smart when he wants to be—”

“Which is never,” Padmé muttered.

“—and now that I’ve been hanging out with him more lately since he and Obi-Wan are practically joined at the hip, I have to say, he’s pretty fun to be around.”

Padmé sniffed. “That’s just Obi-Wan talking.”

“No, I’m serious,” Satine insisted. “Anakin’s a nice guy, Padmé. Just give him a chance. I mean, you’re going to be working together until January, anyway. Might as well try to get along.”

“I have every intention of _trying_ to get along with him, seeing as I’m not about to let him stand in the way of me getting a good grade on this project. It’s the _succeeding_ part I’m worried about.”

“Padmé, Satine,” the teacher said suddenly, making them jump. “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

“No,” they chorused sheepishly, and they obediently fell silent and pulled out their notebooks as class resumed.

On her way out some forty-odd minutes later, Padmé heard someone call her name, and she turned to see that Anakin had followed her. “Oh. Hi.”

“I was thinking, we should probably exchange numbers so we can text each other about meeting up for the project and stuff,” he said in a rush, looking weirdly nervous.

Padmé gave him a funny look. “Sure, good idea.” She handed him her phone, then took his, typed her number in, and switched back with him afterwards. “Start thinking of a topic you want to do. Maybe we can meet this weekend and pick something.”

“Okay.”

“Cool. See you later.” Padmé turned without sparing him another glance and hurried to catch up with Satine.

* * *

“I got Padmé’s number!” Anakin bragged as he and Obi-Wan sat down across from Ahsoka, who had beaten them to lunch and already started eating.

“Only because you needed it so you could work on your project,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “It doesn’t really count.”

“Um, of course it does.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Sure, Anakin.”

“What are you even talking about?” asked Ahsoka. She was quickly filled in on the story, and she grinned in delight. “So you and Padmé have to work on a project together for the _whole semester?_ How great is that? And it sounds like the perfect opportunity to get to be friends enough that she’ll want to go to prom with you.”

“He might have his work cut out for him, though,” said Obi-Wan rather cryptically.

Anakin furrowed his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I was talking to Satine while you were getting Padmé’s number, and she said that Padmé is, ah, not exactly thrilled to be partners with you.”

“Not exactly thrilled?”

“I believe ‘pissed as hell’ was her precise wording.”

Anakin huffed indignantly as Ahsoka laughed. “What for? I’m an excellent partner.”

“Anakin, I’ve been doing projects with you for years, and I can assure you, you are _not_ an excellent partner,” Obi-Wan said. “I always do all the work.”

“That is _so_ not true.”

“You always goof off when we’re supposed to be working, then you try to distract me, then you get mad when I won’t pay attention to you.”

“No, I don’t!” Anakin argued. “I totally pull my weight in projects. Like that time last year when we were doing a presentation for English and you forgot what you were supposed to say so I jumped in and saved your ass.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It does too!”

“Anyway,” interrupted Ahsoka. “I guess you’ll just have to work really hard on this one and prove Padmé wrong, won’t you?”

Anakin nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to be the best partner ever. She’ll see. And so will you,” he added, glaring at Obi-Wan, who just rolled his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

That year’s prompt for the project stated that it had to be about a turning point in history, so Padmé and Anakin decided to do the French Revolution. Padmé would have preferred something more obscure that she didn’t already know so much about, but Anakin seemed to like the idea of common people overthrowing the upper class elite, and she figured he might be more inclined to work if he was interested in the topic, so she went along with it. Besides, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to delve into questions about why democracy failed and how Napoleon was able to take over and declare himself emperor.

“I suppose you think he had the right idea, seeing as you believe government works better when it’s controlled by a single person and everyone else is made to agree,” she said disparagingly, referring to their argument from a week or two previously.

Anakin looked embarrassed. “I was just kidding,” he mumbled. “I don’t really think that.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

He shrugged. “I was playing devil’s advocate?” he tried.

Padmé shook her head in exasperation.

Once they’d settled on the French Revolution, they hurried to the library to check out all the good books in case other groups chose the same topic. Padmé was pleasantly surprised when Anakin came back with some helpful-looking selections, though she did have to talk him out of _European History for Dummies_. They split the books between the two of them, and Padmé lugged a large stack home with her to start reading.

Padmé figured she and Anakin wouldn’t have to meet up again for the project until they’d gotten through all their books, which would take quite a while, so she was content not to see him outside of school again for the time being. That is, she was until physics class one afternoon in October.

She settled into her seat beside Satine and pulled out her physics notebook and a pencil as her friend chatted with Obi-Wan, who sat in front of them. “…Friday night maybe?” Satine was saying. “I’m busy Saturday.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I promised Anakin I’d hang out on Friday,” he said regretfully, “and you know how much he sulks when I cancel on him.”

Satine laughed, then looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “Maybe he could come with us.”

“Like a third wheel?” Obi-Wan asked doubtfully.

“Well…” Satine’s gaze fell upon Padmé. “Padmé could come too, so then he won’t be third wheeling.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so like a double date?”

“Exactly. What do you think, Padmé?”

Padmé looked at her in alarm. “I don’t know, I think I’m going to have a lot of work this weekend—”

“You’ll have all day Saturday and Sunday to do homework,” Satine said impatiently. “Obi-Wan and I haven’t gotten to spend time together in ages, and Friday’s the _only_ day this week that might work, but he can’t bail on Anakin, so Anakin has to come with us, and can’t you just babysit him for one night? Please?”

Padmé sighed loudly. “Fine. But you both owe me.”

“Great! Thanks so much, Padmé,” said Obi-Wan, while Satine beamed at her.

“Anakin might not even want to go,” Padmé said.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll want to,” Obi-Wan replied breezily. “I’ll check with him later.” Anakin wasn’t in their class, having taken physics the year before. Padmé still wasn’t really sure how he’d managed that since at their school you were generally required to take biology as a freshman and chemistry as a sophomore before attempting physics as a junior. He must have doubled up one year or taken classes over the summer or something. Maybe she could ask him about it on Friday. After all, they would certainly need to find something to talk about if they were going to spend the whole night watching Satine and Obi-Wan be disgustingly in love.

* * *

“Obi-Wan, I could marry you right now.”

“It was actually Satine’s idea.”

“Then I could marry Satine.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Physics had been the last class of the day, and Obi-Wan informed Anakin of the proposed Friday night plan as Anakin drove them home in his car, a beat-up contraption he’d rescued from a junkyard and eventually managed to get up and running again, though Obi-Wan frankly was always afraid he was going to die every time he set foot in it. He’d barely had a chance to finish his sentence before Anakin started enthusiastically agreeing to the plan. “What are we going to do?” Anakin continued.

“I don’t know. Satine and I were thinking of going to someone’s house and watching a movie or something.”

“That’s boring.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s much else to do in this boring town,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“I guess. Hey, maybe you two could, like, go away at some point and leave me and Padmé alone.” Then Anakin frowned as he thought better of the idea. “Actually, you’d better not do that. I’d have no idea what to say to her. It would be awkward.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Anakin, I don’t understand why you’re so incapable of having a normal, civilized conversation with her. Just pretend she’s me, or Ahsoka, or literally anyone else in the world who you talk to without any effort.”

“I _can’t,_ ” Anakin whined. “I like her too much, _and_ I’ve liked her for way too long. Being too nervous to talk to her is just the norm at this point. Seriously, I can’t even remember if there was ever a time when I didn’t like her.”

“I guess you have a point. The way I remember it, I could practically _see_ you developing a crush the first time she ever said hi to you.” Obi-Wan shook his head again. He seemed to do that a lot when talking to Anakin. “Seven years, no encouragement whatsoever, and you’re still just as obsessed with her as you were when you were nine. I can’t decide if it’s pathetic or creepy.”

Anakin huffed. “To be fair, I actually managed just fine when we met for our project a couple weeks ago. I can handle a straightforward academic discussion perfectly well. It’s just, you know, normal conversations I’m not great at.”

“Well, you’d better brush up on your small talk skills before Friday, unless you want to spend the whole night talking about the French Revolution. Which Padmé actually might not mind,” Obi-Wan added thoughtfully. “Maybe it would make her feel better about hanging out with us instead of getting work done.”

* * *

“I still can’t believe you roped me into this,” Padmé muttered, riffling through her closet.

“Padmé, it’s going to be _fine,_ ” said Satine. “You just have to sit through a two-hour movie, and then I give you my blessing to make up an excuse to leave afterwards. Besides, it’s more of a group thing than a real double date, anyway, so you probably won’t even have to talk to Anakin that much. Even though I’m sure you’d have fun if you did.”

“Doubt it. He’s obnoxious. Always has to be the center of attention.”

“That’s not obnoxious, it’s endearing. He needs people to pay attention to him because it reassures him that they care about him.”

Padmé turned around to stare at her. “What are you, some kind of psychologist?”

Satine shrugged. “That’s just what Obi-Wan says, and I figure he knows Anakin better than probably anyone else does.”

“Whatever. What do you think of this?” As she had already done approximately twelve times that evening, Padmé held out an outfit for Satine’s consideration.

“It’s perfect, just like everything else you’ve shown me,” said Satine impatiently. “Honestly, Padmé, I thought you couldn’t care less what Anakin thinks of you.”

“I couldn’t,” Padmé said with a glare, feeling her cheeks heat up a little despite herself. “I just like to look my best, all right?”

“Whatever you say. Just please hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

Grumbling, Padmé quickly changed into the outfit she was holding, figuring Satine would probably kill her if she deliberated any longer, and soon they were finally ready to go. Satine drove them from Padmé’s house to Anakin’s, and Padmé was overwhelmed with nostalgia when they went inside.

She and Anakin had been good friends—maybe even best friends—for a while after he’d moved there and she must have been to his house dozens of times, though it had been years since she’d last set foot in it. But everything looked exactly as she remembered it from their childhood, and she was half-expecting Anakin’s mother to turn the corner and greet her with a smile when instead his stepfather bid them a polite hello before heading upstairs to keep out of their way, and Padmé remembered with a sickening jolt that Shmi Skywalker had died of cancer two years previously.

That put Padmé in a somber mood as she and Satine went into the living room and settled on the couch beside Anakin and Obi-Wan, but she did her best to shake it off as they started arguing over which movie to watch. They ended up picking some generic-looking action movie that Padmé didn’t catch the name of, and she resignedly settled herself in for a long night.

All four of them talked together over the beginning of the movie, and by the time they bothered to try and pay attention, Padmé had missed so much of the exposition that she had no hope of figuring out what was happening. She and Anakin were perched rather stiffly on one couch, carefully keeping their distance from each other, while Obi-Wan and Satine were on the other couch with no such qualms. Anakin—who was acting surprisingly timid, given how much of an attention-seeker he usually was—hesitantly tried to make conversation with Padmé a few times, but every time they quickly ran out of things to say about whatever insubstantial topic he’d chosen and ended up falling back into awkward silence.

After about an hour or so, Padmé glanced over at Obi-Wan and Satine and suppressed a disgusted groan as she saw that they had most decidedly abandoned any attempt to watch the movie. She paused for a second, then leaned in closer to Anakin, jerking her thumb towards the other two and whispering, “Do you want to go for a walk or something? I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Anakin followed her gaze and shuddered. “Yeah, let’s go. They probably won’t even notice we’re gone.”

Indeed, neither of them surfaced for air as Padmé and Anakin stood and slipped out into the front hall. Padmé tugged on her boots and sweater before following him outside. “Are you seriously wearing a scarf and a winter jacket?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as he shut the door behind them. “It’s only October.”

“I get cold easily,” said Anakin defensively, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. “I grew up in the southwest, so moving up here was a pretty big adjustment. You should see me in January.”

Padmé suddenly had a vivid memory of their nine-year-old selves playing in the snow, Anakin bundled up in so many layers that he looked like a giant walking marshmallow. She remembered teaching him how to make snow angels, building a snowman together, shrieking indignantly as he hit her with a snowball when her back was turned…“Still, it’s been, what, seven or eight years since you moved? Surely you’re used to it by now.”

He shrugged. “Some things you just never get used to.” They walked in silence for a moment or two before Anakin smiled and pointed above them to where, through the darkness, they could just barely make out the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves on the trees. “Like that. We didn’t have that where I used to live. I’ll never forget how amazed I was the first year I saw the leaves change.”

This time Padmé pictured them walking home from school, except it took twice as long as usual because Anakin insisted on stopping every few seconds to crunch a leaf under his feet. She blinked rapidly. She hadn’t thought of any of these memories in years; why were they showing themselves now? “I think fall’s my favorite season because of that,” Padmé told him as they walked into the small park just down the street from his house. “Even having lived here my whole life, I still think it’s beautiful.”

“Fall was my mom’s favorite, too.” Anakin’s smile turned sad, and Padmé’s heart gave a twang. “She always loved the trees. There weren’t many where we used to live, mostly just ones people tried to plant in their fake lawns. Not like here, where everything’s so beautiful.” He sighed. “This time of year always makes me think of her,” he finished quietly.

Padmé was at a loss. She didn’t want to say anything that would sadden him further, but she also didn’t want to appear as if she didn’t care. Finally she ventured, “You must miss her a lot.”

Anakin nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He wandered over to a nearby bench and plopped down, and after a moment’s hesitation Padmé followed suit. At last Anakin spoke again. “It’s just…Owen, my stepbrother, he moved in with his girlfriend a few months ago, so now it’s just me and my stepdad. And Cliegg’s nice and all, and he’s trying, and I’m trying, but sometimes it’s just…kind of awkward between us. I mean, he and my mom hadn’t been together that long before she—” He broke off, scuffing his feet in the leaves. “It’s just hard. She was always there, my whole life, and most of the time it was just the two of us, and now she’s gone.”

“I can’t even imagine what that must be like,” said Padmé in a low voice, thinking of her own mother and father and sister. She turned her head to gaze seriously at him. “I don’t remember if I ever said this at the time, but…I’m really sorry, Ani.”

Anakin’s breath hitched slightly at the use of her—and his mother’s—childhood nickname for him. “Thanks,” he said softly. But then he looked away again and Padmé saw that his lower lip was trembling a little, and before she could think twice about it, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him.

Anakin stiffened at first, but after a few moments he started to relax into the embrace and buried his face in Padmé’s shoulder; she could feel tears leaking onto her brand-new sweater, but she made no move to push him away. “I miss her,” Anakin said in a wobbly voice.

Padmé couldn’t think of any words that would help, so instead she hugged him tighter and rubbed comforting circles on his back.

At last, Anakin drew away and took a shuddering breath. “Sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes and giving her a sheepish smile. “This probably isn’t how you would’ve wanted to spend a Friday night.”

Padmé smiled back. “That’s okay. I don’t mind.” And to her surprise, she meant it. Sitting out here alone with Anakin, seeing him drop the cocky façade for once and allow himself to be vulnerable in front of her…Padmé suddenly realized how much she’d missed him since they’d stopped being friends.

“I always loved your mom. She was so nice to me,” she said a minute later. “And she let us get away with anything. Don’t tell Satine or Sabé I said this, but your house was always the most fun to go to after school.”

Anakin laughed. “Remember that time my mom made cookies and we had a contest to see who could eat the most?”

“I almost forgot about that. Who won?” Padmé asked, grinning.

“Me, of course. You gave up after, like, four or five, but I just kept going and going.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. And then I got mad at you and went home because you were just lying on the couch feeling sick instead of playing with me.”

“Yep. Pretty rude of you, considering it was your fault in the first place.”

“My fault? The contest _must_ have been your idea. I would never have suggested something so stupid.”

“Hmm. I guess that’s a fair point.”

They sat on the bench laughing and reminiscing for at least twenty minutes before Padmé started to shiver slightly; the nighttime temperature was a lot colder than she’d bargained for. Noticing, Anakin asked, “Are you cold?”

“No,” she said defensively. He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a little.”

Anakin shook his head. “And after you made fun of my scarf and coat, too. Unbelievable.” But then he unwound said scarf from around his neck and offered it to her.

“That’s okay, I’m fine,” said Padmé quickly. “Keep it.”

“There’s no way that sweater you’re wearing is doing anything to keep you warm. You better put this on before I give you my jacket, too.”

Padmé rolled her eyes, but took the scarf with a murmured “Thanks.” She put it on, admiring how soft the fabric was. It was blue, like Anakin’s eyes. And it smelled like him, too. It smelled nice.

Just then, her phone vibrated, and Padmé gave a small jump, reddening a bit and shaking her head to clear all thoughts of the color of Anakin’s eyes and whether or not he smelled nice. “It’s Satine, wondering where we are,” she said, looking down. “She says the movie just ended.”

“I’m surprised they even noticed that there was still a movie on,” Anakin said, snickering.

Padmé laughed and stood up. “Come on, we should get back,” she said, feeling oddly reluctant.

When they returned, smiling and flushed from the cold, Obi-Wan and Satine were waiting on the couch. “Where were you?” asked Obi-Wan.

“We couldn’t stand watching you two lovebirds anymore, so we went for a walk,” Anakin replied.

Satine yawned. “Well, I’m getting tired, so I think I’m going to head home. Want a ride again, Padmé?”

“Yes, please.”

As she waited for Satine to get her things, Padmé turned to Anakin and said, “Thanks for having us over. I had a really good time.”

“So did I,” he said, giving her a shy smile. “And thanks for—for listening to me. About my mom and stuff.”

Padmé smiled, too. “Of course. Anytime.”

After they’d been driving for a few minutes, Satine glanced sideways at her and asked, “Did you have that scarf on the way here?”

“Oh.” Padmé looked down and realized she’d forgotten to take off Anakin’s scarf. “It’s Anakin’s. He lent it to me during our walk.” Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Satine give her a sly look. “What?”

“Nothing,” her friend said innocently.

Padmé bit her lip. She didn’t want Anakin to think she’d stolen his scarf on purpose or something. “Can you go back so I can return it?”

“No way, we’re almost at your house, I’m not going all the way back. Just give it back to him at school on Monday.”

Padmé sighed. “Fine.”

She didn’t end up getting around to it until several weeks later, but it was hardly her fault that she kept forgetting, Padmé told herself. Or that she was a little reluctant to give it back. After all, it was very comfortable. And it smelled like Anakin and reminded her of his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Anakin thought he sensed a change in Padmé’s attitude towards him after that Friday night in October. Whenever she passed him in the halls now, she smiled instead of ignoring him. She and Sabé started joining Satine occasionally when she sat with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka at lunch, and within a month or two the six of them were sitting together every day. And when they met up to work on their project, Padmé chatted and joked with him instead of opting for either history-related conversations or silence.

(He really missed his scarf, but he figured that was a small price to pay for Padmé treating him like a friend she enjoyed spending time with instead of an acquaintance she barely tolerated. Besides, Anakin got the scarf back eventually, and when he did, it smelled like her.)

And his attitude towards Padmé was changing, as well. He still thought she was more or less the most wonderful person in the entire world, of course, but she was no longer some kind of untouchable goddess high up on a pedestal. In fact, Anakin was rather relieved to realize that she was just as human as anyone else. She laughed (whenever he told a stupid joke that wasn’t even funny), she cried (when she accidentally deleted their entire annotated bibliography and they had to start over), she got mad (when Anakin spilled soda on her new dress), and she made mistakes (and usually refused to admit them). Every time he discovered a new flaw of hers, it only made Anakin like her more—except the punch on his arm following the soda incident really did hurt— and he was getting more comfortable and less tongue-tied around her with every passing day. Although he’d be getting ahead of himself if he said that she didn’t still make him ridiculously flustered.

The semester ended in January, and Anakin and Padmé turned in their project during midterms week along with all the other juniors in the school. Anakin was thrilled to have the project over with, but he was also feeling rather gloomy that the countless hours he’d spent with Padmé to work on it were now at an end.

But as they were walking back from their history teacher’s classroom together after passing in the project, he discovered maybe he no longer needed schoolwork as an excuse to hang out with her.

“I was thinking, we worked really hard on that project,” Padmé began. “So we should do something to celebrate it finally being done.”

“That’s a good idea,” Anakin said, suddenly hopeful. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, it’s winter, so I thought maybe we could go ice skating? I haven’t been at all yet this year, and I really want to.” Then she quickly added, “Not that it has to just be us, I was going to ask Satine and Obi-Wan and Sabé and Ahsoka, too.” She paused and looked at him. “So…what do you think?”

Anakin was faced with a major dilemma. There was no way he was going to refuse an offer to hang out with Padmé when it was served to him on a silver platter, but on the other hand, he didn’t know how to skate. Growing up in what was practically the desert made ice skating opportunities pretty few and far between, and it was one of the things he’d meant to try out sometime after moving to New England, but it just had never ended up happening. He couldn’t go skating with Padmé because he’d surely embarrass himself. He couldn’t casually suggest they do something else because she said she really wanted to go skating and Anakin didn’t want to disappoint her. And he couldn’t admit to her that he didn’t know how to skate because that would also be very embarrassing.

But he ended up stammering, “Um, sure. That…sounds like fun.”

Padmé beamed at him and immediately started making plans, and the happiness on her face made Anakin think that maybe he’d made the right choice after all. Learning to skate couldn’t be _that_ hard, could it?

* * *

Yes, as it turned out, learning to skate _could_ be that hard. Saturday afternoon found Obi-Wan and Satine skating hand-in-hand, Ahsoka and Sabé racing each other, Padmé doing various jumps and twirls, and Anakin clutching desperately at the wall as he moved around the rink at a speed of approximately half a mile per hour. This was torture. Forget sand; _ice_ was the worst thing in the entire universe. Anakin had already slipped and fallen three times in the past twenty minutes.

“You doing okay?”

He looked up and saw that Padmé was gliding gracefully over towards him. “Yeah, I’m—I’m fine,” he lied.

She came to a halt next to him, her expression a mixture of sympathy and amusement. “You don’t know how to skate, do you?”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, then sighed and admitted in a mumble, “No. I’ve never done it before.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Padmé asked. “I would’ve suggested we do something else today if I’d known you weren’t going to have a good time.”

“I’m having a great ti— _shit!”_ Anakin lost his balance and fell flat on his back for the fourth time, groaning. Padmé extended her hand and helped him back up to his feet. Anakin brushed himself off with as much dignity as he could muster, then said, “I didn’t want to tell you because…I don’t know, I thought you’d think it was lame.”

Padmé laughed, though not unkindly. “I don’t think it’s lame at all.”

“But you’re so good. Those spinny things you were doing are, like, Olympics-level.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, still grinning. “The only reason I can do all that is because I took figure skating lessons up until last year. I had just as hard of a time as you are when I first started out.”

“Oh.” Anakin took another tentative step forward. “Do you have any tips?”

“Well, the first thing is to be confident. If you think you’re going to fall, then you will, so instead you have to believe you can do this.”

Anakin snorted. “Easy for you to say.”

But Padmé took him under her wing despite his complaining, and within half an hour he was inching around relatively comfortably and no longer hugging the wall quite so closely. “You’re doing great,” Padmé said encouragingly after he’d made it a full lap around the rink without falling once. “Why don’t you try going a little faster now?”

Anakin shook his head vigorously. “No way. I’m fine at this speed.”

“But it’s more fun to go fast.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Are you really scared of going fast? With the way you drive?” Padmé said, raising her eyebrows.

“That’s different,” Anakin insisted. “I can control a car.”

“Better than your own body?”

“Better than _gravity.”_

Padmé shook her head, smiling, and held her hand out to him. “Take my hand.”

“Why?” Anakin said, feeling a faint blush creep into his cheeks. Hopefully Padmé would just think it was from the cold.

“I’ll pull you around and help you learn to go faster,” she said.

“But if I fall I’ll take you down with me,” he pointed out.

“All right, then we’ll fall together,” Padmé replied, totally unfazed. “Come on.”

Anakin hesitantly reached for her hand, the contact sending electricity through him even though they were both wearing gloves. Padmé started out slow and gradually sped up the pace, and soon they were zooming around the rink and Anakin was smiling despite himself and thinking that maybe going fast _was_ more fun after all.

But then suddenly they were going _too_ fast and he felt himself start to lose his balance again. “Wait, Padmé—” he called, but before he could finish warning her, his feet had slid out from underneath him and he was tumbling down.

Anakin had barely hit the ground before Padmé was falling too; he let out a faint wheeze as she crashed on top of him, knocking the breath out of him (literally and metaphorically). Their faces were only a centimeter apart, and they locked eyes for several long moments, and Anakin’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure Padmé could feel it seeing as she was literally _lying on top of him._

Padmé quickly cleared her throat and scrambled off him, getting to her feet before helping him up too. Her face looked rather pink, unless that was just from the cold. “Well, I think I’ve tortured you with skating long enough,” she said. “How about we go get some hot chocolate?”

“Sounds good,” Anakin said, trying not to sound too flustered.

They took off their skates and went to buy hot chocolate before heading over to the bleachers. They sat side by side and watched the other skaters as they sipped their drinks. “Where are you thinking of applying to college next year?” Padmé said after a few moments of silence.

Anakin sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

“You don’t know yet? Not even a little idea?” she said, looking surprised.

“I’m guessing _you_ already have the exact list of where you’re going to apply,” he said.

“No, but I have a bunch that I’m thinking about,” said Padmé. “What do you want to study?”

Anakin shrugged. “Engineering, probably.”

“Really? That’s great.”

“Yeah. I’ve always liked figuring out how stuff works. My mom used to get so annoyed with me for taking apart various household appliances even though I _almost_ always managed to put them back together again,” he said with a fond smile, and Padmé laughed. “So she always told me I should become an engineer and put all that curiosity to good use.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Padmé said, nodding. “Okay, so knowing that you’re looking for a good engineering program will help narrow your college search.”

“I guess.” Anakin made a face. “It’s just…I’m probably going to need a scholarship to afford it, either that or a _ton_ of financial aid, but my grades probably aren’t good enough to get one. I mean, I do well in science and math and stuff, but other than that…well, you’ve seen what I’m like with history.”

“All I saw was someone who works really hard when he puts his mind to it,” she said. “Just because you don’t have a natural talent for the other subjects doesn’t mean you can’t succeed in them. Besides, grades aren’t everything.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re on track to be the valedictorian.”

“They’re not,” Padmé insisted. “Passion and hard work are more important, and you have both of those.”

“Colleges don’t care about that, though.”

“Yes, they do.”

“Not as much as they care about grades.”

“Well, then, if you apply yourself a little more, you can get your grades up,” Padmé said. “You’re really smart, Anakin.”

Anakin blushed a little and quickly ducked his head. “Anyway,” he said after spending a moment regaining his composure, “what about you? I mean, how do you do it? You’re good at everything.”

Padmé rolled her eyes…and was she blushing slightly too? “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve been class president, like, a million years in a row and you’re probably going to be valedictorian, too. And apparently you’re great at skating,” Anakin added. “So how do you do it? How do you succeed at everything you try?”

She was quiet for a minute, then said softly, “Debilitating fear of failure will do that to you, I guess.”

Anakin blinked at her. “What?”

Padmé was avoiding his eyes. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve just…needed to succeed. I’ve needed to be _perfect._ I don’t know why, I don’t know if it’s pressure from my parents or from my teachers or just from myself. But I _can’t_ not be good at something. That’s why I took skating lessons for ten years even though I didn’t actually like it that much. I wouldn’t let myself quit.” She paused and glanced sideways at him for a second before looking away again. “But then last year, I-I had a panic attack, and afterwards my parents made me quit a lot of things because I had way too much on my plate. Skating was one of the first to go.”

Anakin gazed at her in surprise. Padmé always seemed so poised and put-together, always made everything look so easy and effortless. He never would’ve guessed the self-assured façade was hiding all that stress and anxiety. “I’m—I’m sorry that happened,” he said after spending a minute trying to find the right words. “It must’ve been really scary.”

She nodded, then cleared her throat and finally looked back over at him. “I’ve never told anyone that,” she said quietly. “About my panic attack. I was home alone when it happened, my parents were at work and my sister was away at college. And they were the only ones I told about it, them and my doctor. I never told anyone else, not even Satine or Sabé. I was—I was _embarrassed._ I thought it meant I was…I don’t know, weak. Like I couldn’t handle a little bit of pressure without having a breakdown.”

“Sounds like it was more than a _little bit_ of pressure,” Anakin said. “Panic attacks are nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people have them. And you’re not weak, Padmé. You’re the opposite of weak. I admire you so much, you know. Even before this year, before we really knew each other that well, I always thought you were amazing.”

He felt his cheeks heat up slightly at the admission, but Padmé smiled at him so gratefully that he decided a little embarrassment on his part was more than worth it. “I didn’t mean for this conversation to get so serious,” she said sheepishly a minute later. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right.” Anakin hesitated, then said, “Thanks for telling me all that. Especially since you said you’d never told anyone else.”

“Thanks for listening,” Padmé replied, giving him another small smile.

They were joined ten minutes later by the rest of their friends, and after another half hour, they called it a day and went their separate ways. Anakin and Satine were the only ones who had both licenses and cars, so they drove the others home; Anakin took Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, who lived closest to him, while Satine took Padmé and Sabé.

“It looked like you and Padmé spent a lot of time together today,” Ahsoka said from the backseat; Anakin looked in the rearview mirror and saw her waggling her eyebrows suggestively at him. “What’d you guys talk about?”

The Anakin from a few months ago would’ve immediately started bragging about how Padmé trusted him enough to tell him something she’d never told anyone, but current Anakin didn’t feel right about betraying her confidence like that; that afternoon had just strengthened his growing realization that Padmé was no longer some childish crush he was chasing after, but rather a good friend he had feelings for on a deeper level. So he just shrugged and said, “I don’t know, stuff. Nothing that exciting,” and refused to elaborate despite Ahsoka’s and Obi-Wan’s subsequent pestering.


	4. Chapter 4

Soon it was February, which meant only one thing: the asking-to-junior-prom season had officially begun. Padmé was at an utter loss for what to do. She didn’t have anyone in mind as a potential date; she’d considered asking Bail Organa to go with her as a friend, but had quickly abandoned the idea when he’d told her he was planning to ask Breha, whom he’d had a crush on for as long as anyone could remember (in the end, Bail took so long working up the courage to ask her that Breha got impatient and asked him herself, to his and everyone else’s delight).

Then Padmé turned to her other friends. Obi-Wan and Satine were going together, obviously, which left Sabé, Anakin, and Ahsoka. “Sabé, maybe you and I can go together as friends,” Padmé suggested during the second week of February.

“I was actually planning to take Ahsoka,” said Sabé. “Since she won’t be able to go otherwise because she’s only a sophomore.”

“Oh. I’d assumed Anakin was going to take her.”

“I don’t know, I think he has someone else in mind,” Sabé said, looking like she was suppressing a smirk.

“Oh,” Padmé said again, troubled by the feeling churning in her stomach that was oddly akin to jealousy. She almost asked Sabé who Anakin was planning to ask, then thought better of it. She didn’t want to know.

But the thought gnawed at her for another few weeks (she’d decided her new strategy was to just wait and hope some random person was going to ask her out of the blue), and Padmé started to realize that…she may have accidentally developed _feelings_ for Anakin at some point over the past several months. Possibly. She wasn’t sure. But her heart leapt whenever she saw him, and her stomach squirmed whenever he smiled at her, and whenever they had plans to hang out she anticipated it the whole week leading up to it. And when they got the grades back for their history project and found out they’d gotten an A, Anakin was so excited that he hugged her and Padmé thought she was going to die on the spot.

This was a dilemma. Padmé needed to talk to someone who could help her figure out whether or not she actually liked Anakin, but she was afraid that Satine or Sabé would tease her and that Obi-Wan or Ahsoka would spill the beans to Anakin. But then Sola came home from college one weekend to celebrate Padmé’s birthday (February twenty-second), and she realized that her sister was the perfect confidante.

After their parents went to bed that evening, Padmé looked over at Sola, who was sitting on the couch beside her, and said hesitantly, “I need your advice about something.”

Sola looked up from her phone and put it back in her pocket as she turned towards Padmé. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Well…there’s this guy,” she began.

 _“Oh,”_ Sola said knowingly, and Padmé blushed.

“It’s not like that. Or, it might be like that. I don’t know,” Padmé said. “Do you remember Anakin Skywalker?”

Sola frowned thoughtfully. “Rings a bell…hey, weren’t you friends in elementary school?”

“Yeah, that’s him. But we drifted apart in middle school and didn’t really talk anymore, so I barely knew him before this year. But now our friends are dating each other and we got paired up for the history project—”

“I still can’t believe you got to do that in partners,” Sola grumbled. “ _So_ not fair. I had to do the whole thing myself.”

“—so we ended up spending a lot of time together and getting to know each other really well, and now we’re friends,” Padmé finished. “Good friends. And I realized recently that I think I might have feelings for him, but I’m not sure.”

“And you want me to help you figure out whether or not that’s the case,” Sola supplied, and Padmé nodded. “Okay. Well, first of all, what made you realize you might feel that way about him? Did something specific happen to trigger it or did it just kind of sneak up on you?”

“I don’t know…I think it was because Sabé said Anakin wanted to ask someone else to prom,” Padmé said after a minute. “And when she said that, I got all—I was _jealous,_ I think.”

“Really?” Sola said, raising her eyebrows. “Getting jealous of him asking someone else to prom is definitely a sign of having feelings for him, if you ask me.”

“I _guess.”_

“Do you think he’s attractive?”

Padmé flushed again. “Yeah,” she mumbled; she’d always thought so in an objective sense, but lately she’d found herself staring at him just a little longer than was appropriate, though luckily he had yet to notice.

“Do you think about him a lot?” Sola asked next.

“I don’t know. More than I used to, for sure.”

“Does he make you laugh?”

“All the time. He’s the funniest person I know.”

“Do you count down the seconds until you can see him again?”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far. But…I _do_ always look forward to seeing him.”

“Hmmm.” Sola was smirking now. “Does he give you butterflies in your stomach?”

Padmé scoffed. “Oh, _please._ This is real life, not a rom-com.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the butterflies,” Sola said seriously, though she wasn’t entirely able to hide her grin. “I always had them with Darred before we got together. Still do, actually.”

“That’s cute.”

“We’re not here to talk about _my_ love life,” Sola reminded her. “Anyway, it sounds to me like you have a textbook case of feelings for Anakin. But only _you_ can decide if you really do or not.”

Padmé pondered the matter for a few more weeks, and eventually she had no choice but to admit to herself that she _did_ have feelings for Anakin. Honestly, she was pretty sure they’d existed at least since the day they’d gone skating, if not even earlier.

But this realization had the unfortunate consequence of making her jumpy and flustered around him, which was why she had to stifle a shriek one morning in the beginning of March when she shut her locker only to find him standing right on the other side. “Anakin!” she gasped. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said, looking embarrassed. Actually, Padmé realized that he seemed not just embarrassed, but kind of _nervous,_ too; he was blushing and fidgeting and his eyes were darting all around. Eventually they settled on her, and he took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Padmé said, trying to ignore the way her heart was fluttering. He looked so cute when he was nervous… “What about?”

“I—um—I was wondering—um—” Anakin stopped for another gulp of air, then blurted out, “Willyougotopromwithme?”

Padmé stared blankly at him. “What?”

“Sorry, I just meant, um, I was wondering if, um, maybe you wanted to go to prom with me?” he stuttered.

All the air whooshed out of Padmé’s lungs, and she was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open. Anakin wanted to go to prom with her? But Sabé had said—had Sabé been talking about _her?_ Had _Padmé_ been the person Anakin had in mind to ask? “O-okay,” she finally managed, face flaming. “Yes. That—that would be nice.”

“Really?” Anakin said with wide eyes, then promptly turned an even brighter shade of red.

Padmé nodded, giving him a shy smile and, sure enough, feeling approximately one million butterflies in her stomach.

“Okay. Cool. Thanks.” Anakin winced. “I-I mean, not _thanks,_ just, um…yeah. Great. I’ll see you then. And also before then. Since we see each other kind of a lot. Um—”

Mercifully, the warning bell rang and cut off his babbling, so they exchanged one last embarrassed smile before heading their separate ways for their first class of the day.

* * *

“Pay up!” Anakin announced, dropping his lunch onto the table and sitting down beside Obi-Wan and Ahsoka; Padmé, Satine, and Sabé were on the other side of the cafeteria managing the bake sale table for some student government fundraiser.

“What?” said Ahsoka.

“I asked Padmé to prom, which means you owe me ten dollars, and she said yes, which means Obi-Wan owes me another ten,” he said triumphantly.

They both gasped and demanded to know exactly how it had all gone down. “What did you say?” asked Obi-Wan.

“What did _she_ say?” Ahsoka added.

“Uh, I said, ‘do you want to go to prom with me?’ and she said ‘okay’ and that was it. Really not that exciting,” Anakin said modestly, though in reality he’d been walking on air all morning and probably would continue to do so for the rest of the day, if not the rest of the weeks left until prom, if not the rest of the year, if not the rest of his life.

Obi-Wan reluctantly forked over ten dollars while Ahsoka made an excuse about paying Anakin later, and they spent the rest of lunch chattering excitedly about prom—or rather, Anakin chattered excitedly about prom (and Padmé) while the other two listened good-naturedly for once instead of making fun of him.

The weeks flew by, and before Anakin knew it, the day had arrived. Senior prom always took place in a hotel ballroom or other similar venue, but junior prom usually got relegated to the high school gym due to a general “junior prom isn’t as important as senior prom” attitude that led to lackluster fundraising efforts and an unwillingness to pay a high price for tickets. Anakin didn’t really care either way about the venue; all that mattered was that he was going with Padmé. They could host it in a landfill and he’d still be over the moon.

Their friends were all meeting at the Naberries’ house for pictures since they had the nicest front lawn. Anakin had felt his mother’s absence keenly when he was gloomily resigning himself to the prospect of showing up alone and having his picture taken by other parents and not his own—Shmi would have been so excited and proud to see him all dressed up for prom—but then, to his surprise and gratification, Cliegg had insisted that he was going along, and even Owen and Beru had promised to come too.

“You look wonderful, Anakin,” Beru said when they arrived from their apartment in the city, and Anakin smiled at her. She and Owen had already been together when Cliegg and Shmi first started dating, and while Anakin had been a little wary of his future stepfather and stepbrother at first, he’d taken to Beru immediately. She was one of the rare people who just exuded warmth at all times. A bit like Shmi, actually.

Owen, meanwhile, grinned at him and reached out to straighten his bowtie. “Looking good, little brother,” he said affectionately, and Anakin laughed and batted his hand away. Despite a slightly rocky start, Anakin had bonded with Owen and Cliegg eventually, and Shmi’s passing had actually brought the three of them even closer.

“How are you feeling?” Cliegg asked as they drove over to the Naberries’. “Nervous?”

“Kinda,” Anakin said. He anxiously checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. “I hope Padmé’ll think I look okay.”

“I’m sure she will,” Beru said.

“Can’t wait to finally meet the famous Padmé,” Owen said, smirking. “I’ve been hearing about her nonstop for practically the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Shut up,” Anakin mumbled, turning pink as the others laughed.

They arrived a few minutes later, and Anakin thought he was going to be sick as he got out of the car and led the way up to knock on the front door; he was getting there before the rest of their friends so he and Padmé could take some pictures alone together first.

Jobal Naberrie opened the door almost immediately. “Hello, Anakin. You look very nice,” she told him with a smile.

“Thanks,” Anakin said, fighting the urge to crane his neck and see if Padmé was there.

As if she’d read his mind, Jobal said, “Padmé’s just upstairs, I’ll let her know you’re here.” She called up to Padmé and ushered the newcomers into the living room where Padmé’s father and sister were waiting. Greetings were exchanged all around, and a minute later Anakin heard high heels clacking on the wood floor and almost broke his neck from how fast he whipped his head around to look.

Padmé had sent him a picture of her dress ahead of time so he could get a matching tie, but seeing it on the hanger absolutely didn’t compare to seeing it on her. Anakin felt genuinely short of breath as he gazed at her. Her dress was purple, strapless, and unadorned; in Anakin’s opinion, the simplicity of the style made her look even more beautiful than if it had been a flashier dress covered in sequins. Her dark hair was in a complicated-looking updo that left a few loose curls framing her face, and the ensemble was topped off with a necklace and matching earrings.

“Hi,” Padmé said shyly, snapping Anakin out of his daze.

“Hi,” he said. “You look—um, you look really nice.”

She blushed and smiled at him. “Thank you. So do you.”

Then Anakin was blushing too, and they were standing there blushing and smiling at each other and temporarily forgetting anyone else was in the room until their families started fussing over them and positioning them for pictures. The next hour or so was a blur as Anakin found himself whisked from group to group until the parents were satisfied they had pictures of every possible combination of people. Luckily, Obi-Wan, Satine, Ahsoka, Sabé, Bail, and Breha were the only other ones there, so it didn’t take _too_ long, though still much longer than Anakin would have liked had he not been preoccupied staring at Padmé every chance he got. She really was stunning and just generally perfect; he could still hardly believe she’d actually agreed to go with _him._

At last they headed over to the high school, which was only five minutes from Padmé’s house, so they’d decided to forego a limo and save that for senior prom the next year. “I have to admit, they actually did a good job with the decorations,” Padmé said as they walked into the gym. “Even though I still would’ve preferred a proper venue.”

“Isn’t the class president responsible for that kind of thing?” Anakin asked.

She made a face. “Believe me, I _tried_ to get the rest of class office to vote to do fundraising for a better venue, but they kept saying it would be too much work, so eventually I had to admit defeat.”

Anakin laughed and, without thinking, said, “Well, I don’t care what the venue is as long as I get to spend time with you.”

He immediately turned the color of a firetruck, but Padmé just beamed at him (though her cheeks were also a little pink) and led him over to claim a table. Their group all chatted for a while and snacked on appetizers, and then Bail and Breha hit the dance floor with Obi-Wan and Satine close behind.

Anakin was just working up the courage to ask Padmé if she wanted to dance when Ahsoka said, “I hope you’ve put your twenty dollars to good use, Skyguy.” She waved a hand at his attire. “I’m sure that tux wasn’t cheap.”

Realizing she meant his winnings from the bet, Anakin started frantically shaking his head, but it was too late: Padmé looked curiously between the two of them and said, “What twenty dollars?”

“Nothing, she was just kidding—”

“The twenty dollars he got from me and Obi-Wan for asking you to prom,” Ahsoka said matter-of-factly, to Anakin’s abject horror. “At the beginning of the year we bet him he couldn’t do it, but he did.”

Padmé stared at her for a few moments before turning towards Anakin, whose stomach dropped when he saw the look on her face. “This—this was all because of a _bet?”_ she said slowly.

“No, it—well, yes, there _was_ a bet, but it wasn’t like that,” Anakin said desperately. “I swear, I only meant—”

“So what is this to you, some kind of prank?” Padmé demanded, looking both angry and hurt. “You only asked me to prom to—to make fun of me? Because you thought no one would ever like me enough to actually _want_ to go with me, so you asked me as a joke?”

“What? Padmé, no, please, I didn’t—”

“You know, I always used to think you were an asshole, but this year I realized I was wrong. But I guess it turns out I _wasn’t_ wrong. I-I thought you were different, better than that,” she whispered, and Anakin was pretty sure there were tears in her eyes. “Anakin, I thought you were my _friend.”_

“Padmé, wait, I’m sorry—”

But she was shoving her chair back and standing up and quickly striding away from the table and out the back door. Anakin watched her go, utterly distressed, then turned to glare at Ahsoka, who looked horrified. “I’m so sorry, Anakin, I had no idea she’d take it that way,” she stammered. “And I kinda thought she would’ve heard about the bet by now.”

Anakin just scowled harder and threw his napkin at her before getting up and hurrying to follow Padmé.

* * *

Crying on the steps of the back entrance to the high school in the middle of prom. How more cliché could she get? Maybe Padmé had been wrong to tell Sola that her life wasn’t a rom-com. Then again, there was nothing romantic or comedic about this moment.

Padmé buried her face in her hands, unable to stop a few small sobs from escaping. She’d been looking forward to prom night all year—no, ever since she was a little girl, really. And now it was ruined. Even worse, she liked Anakin and she’d _thought_ he liked her too, at least as a friend if not more than that. But now it turned out this had all been a joke to him. He’d only asked her to prom because of a bet with his friends. This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to her.

“Padmé?”

She looked up and saw Anakin himself standing there, looking worried. “What do you want?” she said, trying to sound angry though it came out sounding rather watery.

“I wanted to apologize.” He took a few tentative steps towards her, then stopped again, seeming to think better of coming any closer. “This wasn’t a joke to me, and I’d never want to make fun of you.”

Padmé snorted. “You asked me to prom on a _bet.”_

“It wasn’t like that. It was—” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, Padmé, I-I really like you. I’ve had a crush on you since fourth grade.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“So yeah, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka did bet me I couldn’t ask you to prom, but it wasn’t because we were trying to make fun of you,” Anakin continued, looking embarrassed but determined. “It was because they were sick of hearing me talk about how much I liked you, so they were trying to make me get off my ass and actually _do_ something about my feelings.”

Padmé opened her mouth, then closed it again, feeling a little dizzy. “You—you like me?”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders a little.

“How do I know _this_ isn’t a trick or a bet too?” she said suspiciously.

“It’s _not,_ I _swear.”_ Anakin looked like he was going to cry, and Padmé felt her heart start to soften. He came over and sat down on the steps beside her, then reached out and took her hands. “Padmé, I really, really like you,” he said softly, his eyes open and full of honesty as he gazed at her. “But I don’t know how I could possibly prove—actually, wait, yes I do. Just ask literally anyone else in this school because my feelings for you are so obvious that I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who hasn’t noticed by now.”

Despite herself, a small smile grew on Padmé’s face. “Really? You really like me?”

“Yes,” Anakin said, squeezing her hands. “I never meant to hurt your feelings, and I’m so sorry that I did. And what you said back there about thinking we were friends—we _were_ friends. We _are_ friends. The only pretending I’ve been doing this year was pretending I was a cool normal person who didn’t have a gigantic crush on you.”

Padmé let out a giggle and sniffled a little. She could tell in her gut that he was telling the truth…and besides, if the bet really _had_ been made with malicious intentions, surely Ahsoka wouldn’t have mentioned it in front of her so casually. So she took a deep breath and confessed, “Ani, I—I like you too.”

His eyes widened. “What? You do?”

She nodded. “I mean, only since a few months ago, not since fourth grade, but…I like you. And for the record, I don’t think you’re an asshole anymore.”

Anakin laughed, and her smile widened, and then they were leaning in towards each other and their lips were meeting in a kiss. Padmé had never kissed anyone before and didn’t really know what she was doing, so she figured it was probably a pretty clumsy kiss, but fireworks were bursting behind her eyelids, which had fluttered shut, and Anakin’s mouth felt so perfect against hers and their fingers were still laced together and joy was singing through her veins.

They drew apart after a few moments, flushed and smiling. Then Padmé broke the contented silence by chuckling and saying, “You know, the stairs by the back door of the high school gym isn’t really the most romantic spot for a first kiss.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Anakin agreed, grinning. “That was your first kiss?”

She glanced at him a little shyly. “Yeah.”

“It was mine, too,” he said.

Padmé smiled. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I was terrible since you have nothing to judge against.”

“I don’t need anything to judge against to know that that was an amazing kiss,” Anakin said. “Maybe—maybe we could find a more romantic spot for the second?”

She blushed and nodded. “Okay. But if you’re suggesting we ditch prom and run off somewhere, no way,” she said sternly, though she couldn’t hold back the smile on her face. “I did not spend all this time and money getting ready only for it to all go to waste.”

“Fair enough,” Anakin said, laughing. “Plus, I can’t leave before getting that slow dance with you I’ve been daydreaming about all year.”

Padmé chuckled and shifted closer to him, smiling when he let go of one of her hands so he could put his arm around her. “On second thoughts, maybe this spot isn’t so unromantic after all,” she said. “I mean, it’s quiet, no one else is around, we can see the stars…”

“That’s true,” Anakin murmured, bending down until their foreheads and noses were resting against each other. “And they usually don’t play slow songs until the end, right? So we have at least another hour or so to spend out here.”

“I like the sound of that,” Padmé said, and she leaned forward half an inch and kissed him again.


End file.
